A Kind of Fire
by ThinkTooMuch
Summary: It's harder to be left behind. A series of oneshots from the first war.
1. Fabian Prewett

"I'm gonna marry her, Gid."

Fabian walked next to his brother down Diagon Alley, which was becoming increasingly more desolate, even just in the last month. Witches grouped together and hurried about their business. Wizards ducked from shop to shop not making eye contact. And no one spoke. His words seemed to echo along the bricks. It was an empty sound that danced along the walls, as if scolding him for daring to speak of a subject that wasn't appropriately melancholy.

"Sure, Ian."

"Think she'll have me?"

Gideon's pace slowed to a meander, and he looked his brother up and down, considering. "Dunno. She's pretty infatuated with Benjy …"

Fabian rolled his eyes; that was a sore spot between him and Marlene, and one that she liked to tease him about. Said it was good for his ego, or it'd get too big.

"Everyone is infatuated with Fenwick," Fabian dismissed.

Gideon grinned. "Yeah, but Marlene and him … Sure you'll be able to manage not taking his head off every time they're in the same room?"

"I'll control myself."

Gideon paused for a moment. "She could do worse," he finally said, grudgingly.

Fabian shoved him, and they laughed.

"I need a ring," Fabian said, and Gideon sent him a sideways glance.

"You're really serious?"

"I said I was going to marry her. That implies a ring."

Gideon was quiet for a moment. He kicked a loose pebble and sent it skidding down the walkway. "I'm not wearing a bow tie for you," he told his brother. "I don't love you that much."

* * *

><p>They weren't having a big wedding, Fabian decided a few days after he got the ring. Marlene would object to that, probably. She loved weddings, and Fabian almost hated himself for not being willing to give her the most fantastic wedding.<p>

But it was war, and every happy moment seemed to be interrupted with tragedy, as if it waited, lurking in the shadows and knew just when to come out so that it hurt the most.

No, Fabian decided. They could have a small wedding. They wouldn't call attention to themselves. They would be careful.

Gideon said _fuck it_, they were coming anyway, why let them ruin your wedding? But Fabian worried - that's what he did. He was the logical side to Gideon's bursts of passion.

* * *

><p>He was going to propose that evening. They'd made plans for dinner, and Marlene had been giving him slightly suspicious glances all week, tinted with smiles. (She'd look up from her desk where she studied late into the evening and watch him, kind of smiling and he'd ask what and she'd laugh and look down and they'd go on like that well into the night.)<p>

She left for work that morning - early, always early - promising to try to get off at a reasonable time, but they were so busy and she couldn't just _leave_ but she would definitely not miss dinner and Fabian had been half asleep and he couldn't remember if he told her he loved her.

The hit wizard, dressed in dark red robes, not much older than Fabian, shifted his weight uneasily. Fabian was numb, his mind buzzing, and he only sort of heard the man tell him that someone had to come claim the body, and he was listed as the contact.

Fabian managed to nod and get whatever information he needed - later, he would just remember feeling like his legs were crumbling beneath him, a physical pain in his chest.

They didn't find the rest of her family until later that afternoon.

* * *

><p>He didn't cry at the funeral. He wondered if that was okay. Everything was mostly a blur - he tried not to remember. Couldn't quite block out the hot anger slowly growing in the pit of his stomach, though. Anger was easier.<p>

He wasn't exactly aware of it until after the funeral - or, he thought it was. He was with Gideon, they were outside, on a street somewhere. He felt more than saw Benjy to his left. The three of them kind of stared at each other for a long moment, the charge in the air building until Fabian could almost feel it crackle.

It was funny, the small flashes of clarity, the things that stood out. This small moment where absolutely nothing happened.

Benjy shook his head, didn't speak.

Fabian muttered something about _one more day_.

Gideon reached over and unclenched Fabian's fist gently, and Fabian stared at his palm for a moment, the little red crescents left by his nails digging into the skin, and he hadn't realized it hurt, and he clenched his fist again, thinking that if she was alive, she'd be wearing her ring right now - but she's dead and she'd never worn the ring and it didn't matter, it was just a ring, it wasn't anything, because she never touched it - and then he was yelling. Angry, trembling, yelling as loud as he could at his brother, sometimes forming coherent sentences that Gideon tried to respond to. One more day. One more fucking day, and it might have been okay. She might have been okay. _It could have been okay. _

And then the tears that he hadn't cried - the ones he'd shoved aside the day she died because there had been things to do, he had to keep it together, the tears he didn't cry when he went to identify her body - but that sounded so cold, _her body_ - the tears he didn't cry when they put her in the ground next to her sister - also killed that day - and the rest of her family - he couldn't do anything other than stand there and cry, and his brother held him silently because there was absolutely nothing left to say.

* * *

><p>Fabian set the small velvet box down on her desk - his now, he guessed - on top of the layer of parchments that covered the surface. A small stack of healer texts on the left side of her desk was tilted at a precarious angle and looked like it might fall, but he couldn't bring himself to right it. To disturb anything she left behind would ruin it, obliterate the last traces of her he was trying so desperately to hold on to.<p>

Their bed - though, he guessed it was just his now - still held her scent, though it was fading, she was fading, just like every other bit of her, and soon she would be gone, except for the echos still left smiling out of picture frames.

He heard Gideon in the doorway, and he didn't turn. He sighed, stepped back, looking at the small velvet box and the mess of papers covering the delicate polished wood of the desk. A long moment, and his voice was tired when he spoke, resigned.

"I was gonna marry her, Gid."


	2. Emmeline Vance

She was waiting to die.

That's all it was, she was just taking a little longer than everyone else. The years in between, the peaceful times, she went through the motions. Moved on. She had a life, a job, a few relationships here and there.

But she was just waiting for it.

Maybe it was something about watching all your best friends die, one by one, slowly and painfully and never exactly finding their whole bodies, and even when you thought you were in the clear, you weren't. Maybe it was something about that that scarred her too deeply - she was too young, too vulnerable, loved too much. There was something about that that can't be fixed. Left her always next in line, always the next to die.

She remembered once, years ago, still in that dark time, when she smoked a pack a day, Remus Lupin asking her why, and she'd told him that they were all just waiting to die - why not? And he'd grinned and taken a smoke and there was something there, Emmeline had felt it.

Then he'd disappeared for a month. It was different after that.

When people disappeared, they didn't come back. Caradoc hadn't come back. If they did come back, they didn't talk about it. No use dwelling on the past, move forward.

He didn't smoke with her, after that.

After - when it was clear, when they thought the war was over, and they'd made it out mostly whole, Emmeline let herself hope, just a little bit. She'd talked to Alice that morning, subdued by another death of another friend - but definitely laced with hope, and Alice had cried and laughed at the same time, and Emmeline thought that it might be okay to breathe.

She'd found Alice and Frank that evening, not moving; alive, and very much not.

She'd cried.

She and Remus Lupin hadn't had much contact in the years between. There was too much broken glass between them. It was better that way. Too many old wounds, sealed only precariously, and just waiting to break open again, seething.

When Dumbledore reformed the Order, she thought that maybe she could do it right this time. Maybe she didn't have to watch everyone die before her.

Sitting at her kitchen table, cigarette between her fingers, finishing her morning coffee, she felt the wards breaking down around her house.

All she managed was a wry smile. Let them come.

She'd been waiting.


	3. Regulus Black

"Idiot," Sirius muttered in an offhand manner, when he he'd heard about his brother. Dead, that was all he knew. That's what happened to people who backed out. Sirius wanted to feel a bit of pride that Regulus had turned away in the end, but it was mostly trumped by the feelings of smug '_I told you so'_ and guilt.

James looked at him, a bit concerned. "All right, mate?"

Sirius glanced up at him. "Sure, fine."

* * *

><p>"Regulus," the Dark Lord hissed, and Regulus felt a jolt shoot through him. As a reflex, he pushed his occlumency shields up farther, though they had never fallen. The Dark Lord didn't know. He didn't know.<p>

Regulus schooled his features, keeping a calm exterior as all Blacks were taught to from a young age. He stepped forward, out of the mess of dark cloaks and masks, and fell to his knees in front of the Dark Lord, allowing only the thoughts he wanted to be seen above his shield.

"Rise," the Dark Lord said. "Remove your mask."

He didn't know, Regulus told himself calmly as he stood. He couldn't. There wasn't anything to know yet. He hadn't done anything.

Regulus knew well that the Dark Lord would kill his followers for something as small as treacherous thoughts. Again, he checked his shields.

"Do you know, Regulus, what happens to those who betray me?"

* * *

><p>"Idiot," Sirius said, like he had when Regulus had been ten and upset that Sirius was leaving for a whole year to go to school. "Idiot, I'll still write. I'm not going anywhere."<p>

"Yeah you are," Regulus argued. "You're going away to school and then you're not going to talk to me, like Cissy and Andy."

Sirius crossed his arms in front of him and said sternly, like he'd heard his father do, "Regulus Black."

Regulus crossed his arms and instead of looking stern, like Sirius managed to do, he looked petulant. "Sirius."

Sirius sighed. "All right, come here, idiot." He grabbed his brother's arm and tugged him up the stairs and into his room. Dashing to a closet, he rummaged around for a few seconds before Regulus asked, "What are you doing?"

Sirius glanced over his shoulder. "Looking for something." He turned back to continue his search. "You know those mirrors Aunt Elladora gave me for Christmas? - Ah! Here."

Sirius turned to Regulus holding a pair of round mirrors, looking pleased with himself and his solution.

"Mirrors, Sirius?"

"Yes."

"I don't see how that's going to help."

Sirius looked a little bit put out. "You obviously didn't pay attention to my presents this year."

"I believe I was occupied with my own."

"You didn't get anything good."

"Oi!"

"Here, they're two-way." Sirius shoved one of the mirrors into Regulus' hands.

Regulus looked down at the mirror dubiously.

"Say my name," Sirius demanded.

Regulus glanced up at Sirius, then back to the mirror, and obediently said, "Sirius Black."

The mirror fogged over for a moment, and then slowly cleared, and Sirius' face was grinning up at him from the mirror.

Regulus felt a smile tugging at his lips.

"All right?" asked Sirius, looking pleased.

"All right," Regulus agreed.

* * *

><p>Now, Regulus decided. He stumbled through Grimmauld Place, pale and shaking still. The Dark Lord was getting impatient, annoyed with his inability to find any evidence of Regulus' betrayal. He would kill him soon.<p>

So Regulus would go on his own terms.

A moment of cynical humor, he thought about what a Gryffindor sentiment that was. Sirius would have approved. A small smirk; Sirius would never know, and to him, Regulus would always be his cowardly Slytherin little brother.

Regulus laughed at that, an it turned into a hacking cough, and when he got himself under control, he called, "Kreacher."

* * *

><p>"Idiot," Sirius said fondly with that sharp laugh that he and Bella shared. He slung his arm around Regulus' shoulders and ruffled his hair, which earned him an annoyed glare.<p>

"You were ignoring me all week," Regulus muttered. "And you make a show of hating the other Slytherins. Forgive me for assuming."

"I was in class all week," Sirius said, waving his hand as if to brush it off. "And not all the Slytherins. Mostly just Snape."

"Can you let go of me?"

Sirius snorted. "Scared I'll ruin your reputation? Hanging out with stupid Gryffs?" From behind Sirius, his friend laughed. Regulus didn't know him directly, but anyone could spot that he was a Potter.

"Come study with us," Sirius suggested in the way that made it more of a command than an invitation. "You're crap in charms and there's a girl that offered to tutor James cause he's worse than you even." A halfhearted protest from the Potter. "You should come."

"How do you know how I've done in charms?" Regulus protested, already letting Sirius lead him forward.

"Cause," Sirius said in a tone suggesting that it was obvious, "you're my brother."

"But you're mad at me," Regulus said.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I'm always mad at you."

* * *

><p>Regulus slipped on the wet stone and caught himself with his hand, scraping his palm. He looked up at the basin that held the locket, and he felt himself shaking.<p>

No. He steeled himself and stood up. He would not tremble. He'd chosen this, and he would carry the task out with the dignity befitting of a Black.

That sent a cascade of images and thoughts through his mind. A Black? Bella would murder him for this. Slowly, too. Narcissa would hate him. His parents would look at him with nothing less than scorn. Andromeda - she wouldn't disapprove of his actions, but she never got directly involved, kept herself safe by trying to stay out of the picture, and Regulus couldn't fault her for that.

Sirius though. This was a move worthy of Sirius.

Regulus stood up straighter and called for Kreacher. The elf was at his side, and Regulus told him, "Switch the lockets out, and then take it somewhere safe. Leave me, if it comes to that. Understand?"

"Master Regulus -"

More harshly, "Understand?"

"Yes, Master Regulus."

Regulus clenched his fist around the replica of the locket and held it out to the house elf.

For Sirius, then.

* * *

><p>"Idiot," Sirius snarled. There was no affection this time, like he was just calling Regulus an idiot because that's what he did, but he tried to infuse it with every negative feeling he could.<p>

"Shut up and listen to yourself!" Regulus tried to keep his voice down so as to not attract the attention of their parents - they really didn't need that. Sirius was in a mood, and bringing their parents into it at that point would be explosive. "There's a war coming, and you're associating with - with - mudbloods and werewolves!"

"What do you want me to do?" Sirius demanded. Regulus didn't think he'd seen him this angry in a really long time. "You want me to join up like Bella? Or like Cissy? Keep my head down?"

"This isn't just about defying mom and dad anymore, Sirius!" Regulus hissed.

"You don't think I know that?" Sirius' eyes darkened and he advanced on Regulus - just a step, but with that look in his eye, Regulus knew to back off. "You think I don't fucking know that?"

Regulus tried to keep his tone calm, tried to diffuse the situation. "I don't think you fully understand the implications of your actions -"

"I fucking understand, Regulus," Sirius almost growled. He clenched his jaw, and seemed to remember not to yell. "Meadow's parents were killed the other week. Did you know we sat up all night with her for a week? Did you know Edgar Bones wouldn't speak for a month after his little sister was killed in that attack at Christmas? Turpin still hasn't recovered from the attack over the summer. Did you know -"

"Shut up!" Regulus hissed. "That's not my point -"

"_I_ understand, Regulus. You don't."

"You think you understand -"

"You're an idiot," Sirius said, ending the argument. "And you're going to get yourself killed."

* * *

><p>The water was cold. Painful. It seized his lungs and he couldn't breathe, but then he was under the water, and he couldn't have breathed anyway. Rotting hands, pulling him down, slowly gaining a better hold as he was pulled deeper.<p>

Panic took over, and as he started struggling, Regulus hysterically thought that goddamn it, Sirius was always right.

And then he gave him no more thought as icy hands clamped around his neck, and he could only struggle against it, kicking out and trying to pull the hands away, digging his fingers into the soft flesh, but he was too surrounded, overwhelmed.

He could faintly see the outline of the house elf above him, out of the water, and then that was gone too.

Hands grabbing his head, a sharp twist, a crack, pain, and then Regulus thought of nothing.

* * *

><p>Sirius looked down and didn't say anything for a while. James had left and he was alone in his apartment, with nothing to distract him. He rubbed at his nose and pushed away from the counter, tucking his hands into his pockets sullenly. "Stupid bloody idiot."<p> 


End file.
